Article Origin
Volume
Issue
Year
Page 1
Danny Billie, spokesperson, for the Independent Traditional Seminole
Nation, stood solemnly throughout the Collier County, Florida,
commission meeting, waiting for a chance to speak.
Through long hours of county business, Billie stood. His stance all
the more poignant, because Billie had just completed a three-day walk
designed to draw attention to the planned destruction of his way of life
as a traditional Native American.
The commission chamber was filled with Billie's family, Indigenous
people--some coming from as far away as Ontario in the north and Amazon
in the south--and other supporters who had just completed the 62 km walk
with Billie. Under attack are the homes of approximately 20 people who
live on two hectares of land in an agricultural area in the county.
These people are members of Independent Traditional Seminoles in
Florida.
Building code inspectors insist that the homes of the Seminoles,
traditional thatched-roof "chickees," do not meet electrical, plumbing
and building standards. Code violations, they say, include open
electrical wires and inadequate sanitation systems.
But a cable news network, CNN, reported in February that electricity is
supplied to the chickees from a metered pole through buried lines that
were professionally installed. There are two septic tanks to service
the 20 people in the village.
The Traditional Seminoles believe the code violations are an excuse to
have the people removed from the area to make room for a landfill which
is planned for a spot near the village.
"What's happening to us is the continuation of what Christopher
Columbus started 503 years and seven months ago," Billie said. "They
are trying to take the last things that are a part of our lifestyle, the
lifestyle we love."
County officials believe that Billie's lifestyle is not traditional
because it includes modern conveniences. Citing health and safety
reasons, the county wants the structures brought up to date.
"They are putting our health and safety into jeopardy by enforcing
foreign building codes on us.," Billie argued. Traditional chickees
have survived hurricanes that have left modern homes throughout southern
Florida devastated.
"The government thinks (food and shelter) comes from the companies,"
said Bobbie C. Billie, the Seminole village's spiritual leader. "It
comes from Mother Earth. We came from this earth and we can't get away
from it."
The Traditional Seminole Nation rejected federal recognition and the
corporate structure of the Seminole Tribe of Florida, which formed in
1957. The traditional families are eligible for most of the tribe's
services, but do not participate in tribal government, tribal gaming or
collect the monthly dividend distributed to tribal members.
"Once you sign with the government, you've sold yourself down the
road," said Danny Billie. The traditional Seminoles say they never
agreed to be part of the county and have signed no agreement giving up
their sovereignty and self-determination.
But county officials claim the Seminoles gave up rights to
self-determination by choosing to live off the reservation.
"There are reservation lands set aside by the federal government where
they can live any way they want," said county commissioner Tim
Constantine.
"This is not an option for the Traditional Seminoles," said Danny
Billie "(The tribe) broke away from us."
Before the Seminole Tribe of Florida was established, traditional
Seminole people lived throughout southern Florida, including the Naples
area. The Independent Traditional Seminole Nation is made up of about
200 members and today lives in small groups in Florida.
"Florida is the homeland of the Seminole people," states a letter from
the Florida chapter of the American Indian Movement. "They are not
refugees to this continent... (Your) efforts to force these traditional
people to assimilate ...(is) the epitome of arrogance."
But arrogance is not reserved for the county government alone. A woman
waiting to address the commision on another issue refused to sign a
petition to support the Traditional Seminoles.
"They're renegades," she said. "If they were traditional reservation
Indians, I would be all for them."
Commission chairman Tom Norris opposes an exemption to the codes.
"I can't choose to go out in the agricultural area and live in a
chickee because of my race," Norris said. "I thought discrimination was
a thing of the past."
Failure to comply with county codes costs $250 per day. The Seminoles
also face eviction and the destruction of their village. They live on
land owned y Pacific Land Company, which leases it to the village for $1
per year.
This is part of an agreement reached generations ago between
Traditional Seminoles and the land owner. Pacific Land Company has
declined comment, but so far has not forced the Seminoles to comply with
the county.
If Collier County proceeds with code enforcement action, they will have
a fight on their hands.
"You cannot brush aside and do away with the first people of this
continent," Danny Billie told the commission. "We want justice. We
have our own self-determination. We are not asking for that right. We
are telling you that we have (it)."
Florida AIM may urge a tourism boycott if the county continues to
threaten the Seminoles. Whatever happens, they have pledged their
support.
"From Navarez in 1493 to Greasy Grass in 1875, to Wounded Knee in 1973
to Oka in 1990 to Fort McDowell in 1992, Indigenous people have
resisted," Florida AIM warned the commission. "And AIM has had the
honor assisting in that resistance since 1968."
International sentiment agrees.
"I don't understand (why) Indigenous people have to walk and walk and
walk, " said Christina Gualinga, representing the people of the Amazon,
"(just) to reclaim what is naturally ours."
- 1089 views